Things Fall Apart
by Authoressinhiding
Summary: Neither of them ever wanted it to end this way.  But some words cannot be taken back, some actions cannot be undone, and some friendships, once broken, can never be put back together.  Post-Enemies.  Twoshot
1. Version 1

**Disclaimer: Copyrights and extraorbitant legal fees prevent me from claiming anything as my own. -sniff-**

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The vampire strides silently through the darkened streets, her scent in his nostrils. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, he follows her trail carefully. No one needs to know what he does this night. Not the Slayer, not her friends, and definitely not her enemies. Angel closes his eyes to focus. He can't think about anything else right now, or he will lose the scent.

It is fading, fast. She must have run. In a dark corner of his mind, he sees her sprinting ahead of him, but he cannot see her face. Is it angry? Betrayed? No, no. He _must_ focus. _Follow the scent, Angel. Follow the scent_.

Now it leads him to the nicer part of town. Unsurprised, he weaves through abandoned alleys until he comes to a tall brick apartment building and a very convenient fire escape. Angel grins and shakes his head. Moving even more quietly than before, he scales the ladder. By the time the vampire reaches the roof, he has decided nothing about what he will say or even how he will say it.

For a moment he hesitates, debating. Then slowly he raises his head to look across the roof. The vampire can see straight in to her room. In fact, he can even see her. How strange. He hadn't expected it to be this easy. Angel swallows, sighs, then flips over the side of the roof. He lands and rolls to a stop. Freezing, he hopes he hasn't made too much noise. As a general rule, Angel is very sneaky. But if anyone could hear him, it would be her.

Luckily for him, she appears not to have noticed. He crouches in the darkness by the window and watches her storm around the room. She is furious, throwing a Slayer-sized temper tantrum. Angel can hear her cursing, a low, continuous stream of heated profanity. Even though he can't quite catch the words, he knows his name is in there somewhere. She has pulled her hair up since earlier tonight, but her clothes are the same. Red. Red like blood. He feels sick.

Time slowly passes. Her anger eventually gives way to hurt. She throws herself onto her bed and howls like the child she is. Angel turns his face away, unable to watch. No matter how he twists his head, he cannot escape the sound of her tears. His lip curls in distaste. Angelus would find a way inside, get his girl, and take off. Angel does not know what to do. Having a soul complicates things.

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The moment he appears outside her window, Faith knows he is there. She can't see him; she doesn't need to. She just knows. Rage fills her. Why has he come? Hasn't enough damage been done for one night?

Faith slams her fists into her punching bag, visualizing Buffy and Angel's faces crumpling with every hit. Curses flow from her mouth. She picks things up from the floor – shoes, weapons, a hairbrush – and hurls them across the room, screaming. The effect is almost cathartic.

She knew she was betraying her friends, but to find out they were playing her in turn! At least she expected B's actions. She knows they were inevitable. But Angel? Faith has been completely blindsided. She still cannot believe he would lie to her. But he has, and that hurts worst of all.

When the rage runs out, she collapses on her bed, crying. She curls up in a little ball. Maybe that way she can hold in the pain.

And then he is there. She hears nothing – no footsteps, no breathing, no opening and closing of doors – and yet somehow, she knows he is there. How? Oh, d#$ it. She must have said something earlier tonight, flirting with Angelus. Something along the lines of "Maybe when we finish here, we could go over to my place." Classic, idiotic, stupid Faith.

Angel stares down at the limp girl on the bed. She won't look at him. He sits next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder.

That does it. Faith lurches up from the bed. Face scrunched up, she throws a wild punch at Angel's chin. He turns his head, and she misses by a mile. She gulps, still not meeting his gaze.

Sorrow in his eyes, Angel reaches out to touch her once more. She practically sits on him, burying her face in his shoulder, but he doesn't mind. Faith sobs, and her whole body shakes. Angel puts his arms around her. He knows this is wrong – wrong in Buffy's neat little sunlit world, anyway. But Angel doesn't see things Buffy's way. In his world, sharp distinctions rarely exist, and gray is the predominant color.

He feels Faith's heart beating, quick and irregular. Although slightly tempted, the vampire listens to it gratefully. At some point since he met Buffy, it has become his favorite sound. Proof that others are alive, even if he isn't.

Faith wraps her arms about Angel's neck, holding on for dear life. Tears leak from her eyes and soak his black shirt. His cold body is marvelously soothing against her fevered skin. To her surprise, one of his hands starts stroking her back gently. She should hate him; she doesn't. Slowly, all the resentment and anger and pain is draining out of her, leaving only gladness that Angel is there. He is her rock. Wrapped in his arms, Faith feels safe for the first time in weeks. Finally, she can breathe again.

Gradually the tears stop, but Faith and Angel sit there still. Thinking furiously, Faith struggles to plan her next move. Time and time again, however, her thoughts are interrupted by a persistent daydream. In it, Faith is a normal girl without blood on her hands, and Angel is her boyfriend. Not one of the guys she screws, a real, actual boyfriend. Faith knows it's a stupid dream. Still, when the dream leaves, all her horrid feelings come rushing back in. Rage, hurt, and a bitterness so strong it makes her throat burn. She forces herself to breathe slowly. Angel is still holding her; it will be all right. It has to be.

Angel doesn't say anything, just holds her. The girl's heartbeat has slowed. She appears calm, but he has learned not to trust appearances. Tense and wary, the vampire continues to hold her. For Angel suspects that once he lets go, things will never be the same again.

After a time, Faith lifts her head and pulls back. She licks her chapped lips, then glances up into Angel's face. He looks down at her, a quip about not being a tissue on the tip of his tongue. As their eyes meet, his smile fades.

"Faith?"

She stands up and backs away. "We're enemies now."

Eyes locked, they stare at each other for a long while. Angel's are soft and sad; Faith's hard and resolved. Too late, they realize that together they have destroyed the one thing they both treasure: their friendship.

Finally Angel rises. He longs to go to Faith, to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. But the time for that is past. She has made her choice, and unless she changes her mind, there is nothing he can do. He walks to the door, his eyes still intent on hers.

_I'll be there_, he promises silently. _Whenever you need me, whenever you want me, I'll be there_.

Faith watches him go, arms folded tightly across her stomach. She thinks she is going to throw up. When Angel closes the door, she almost chases after him. Fear and regret and longing tumble around inside her, but in the end pride conquers all. Faith has chosen her path, and now there is no turning back.

_Fin._

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**A\N: Review? **


	2. Version 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, I would have done something extravagant with it by now. Trust me. **

**A/N: I wasn't totally happy with the way this turned out the first time, so I decided to spin it a different way. Let me know what you think.**

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When the hammering on her door started, Faith jumped six ways to Sunday, leaving a jagged streak of black eyeliner from her eyebrow to her ear. Attacking it briefly with makeup remover, the Slayer swore. She hadn't expected the Mayor to show up _this_ soon.

"Coming!" she shouted over her shoulder. Whewf. The heavy dark line was almost gone. Good. She'd hate to hear what the Mayor would have said about it. He always did like his girl to look as neat as possible.

After running a comb through her messy hair, Faith raced to the door. She yanked it open breathlessly, then froze. It wasn't the Mayor.

"Hello, Faith." Angel stared down at her coolly. "Mind if I come in?"

Faith stepped back from the door and mumbled a short expletive. He was the last person she'd expected – okay, maybe the next to last – but she probably should have. She had _finally_ stopped thinking about earlier that night, and now here he was, bringing it all back again.

"We need to talk." The vampire watched her panic without a twinge of sympathy. "Either you invite me in, and we talk inside, or I wait for you to come out, and our talk won't be half as pleasant. What'll it be, Faithy?"

"Come on in," she said grudgingly. There wasn't any other option, not really. At least this way they might not be overheard, and she could decide what to tell the Mayor later.

Free to enter, Angel strode into the middle of the room and surveyed the apartment. Faith shut the door and locked it to prevent any of the Mayor's flunkies from wandering in on the conversation. If she or Angel wanted out, a locked door was no obstacle. And if he wanted to kill her, she was as good as dead already.

Angel finished looking at the room and turned to Faith. "Nice place," he observed ironically. "What'd it cost you? Your soul? Was mine part of the deal, too?"

"Nah. That was gonna get me the penthouse suite with the Jacuzzi, but now?" Faith shrugged. "No Jacuzzi."

He almost laughed. They had ousted her as a traitor not two hours before, and she had the nerve to make jokes about it. Angry as he was, Angel admired her tenacity. He sprawled comfortably on the expensive couch. "I take it you aren't sorry, then?"

"You lied to me," Faith growled bitterly, taking the seat opposite. Somehow, he had waltzed into the room with the upper hand, and she didn't have a clue how to get it back.

"Hate to break it to you, Faith, but you lied to all of us first. Not that we couldn't see through it – we just had to know for sure." He cocked his head to one side, smirking. "Although I must admit I had no idea you wanted me so badly."

Faith flushed, a dark, ugly red that crept up her neck and splattered across her face. "Screw you."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?"

"Get out. Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

He ignored her. "I'm curious – why me?"

"Already tried Xander once, didn't I? And Giles is a bit gray for my tastes. Your buddy Spike already left town. Who else was left? Red? Not hardly."

Again Angel fought back the urge to laugh. This little intervention was not going at all the way he'd planned – but then they never did. He had come to make Faith see the error of her ways and bring her back to the fold of White Hats and good Slayerness. Instead, she was making him want to laugh. Suddenly part of her words sunk in, and the vampire frowned petulantly. "Wait . . . You know Spike?"

"We had drinks once." Faith shrugged. "He's a pretty cool guy, for a vamp. Good taste in smokes."

Eyes bulging, Angel wondered vaguely if this was what apoplexy felt like. Faith drinking with Spike. Spike drinking with Faith. Was it just him, or was the world going to hell in a handbasket?

"Angel, you okay?" Faith got out of her chair and waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to Angel. You were lecturing me about not being evil, remember? Well, I think you were going to get there eventually, but I don't have a lot of time, so let's cut it short, shall we?"

The vampire shook himself like a wet dog. He blinked several times, then refocused on Faith's face.

"Lecture time, big guy." She sounded deadly serious. "Have at me."

"Sit down," Angel ordered brusquely, taking her arm and towing her down on the couch beside him. Then he let go, as if her skin burned him. Faith moved away, leaving a foot of empty couch space between them. Touching was _not _a good idea at the moment.

"Yes, Teacher," the rogue Slayer mocked, leaning back and stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Right then. Faith, I've been where you are, and I know what you're feeling. But it won't last. The rush, the adrenaline – it all goes away, sooner or later, and you'll be left feeling empty, hollow, and lost. Trust me; I've been there. And when you're alone in the darkness, it seems like there's no escape, no help, nothing. You don't want to be there, Faith. _Trust me_."

"I used to."

Angel groaned. "Faith! This is more important than tonight. You know that. You're not an idiot; don't act like one."

Faith gave him the ghost of a smile. "You want me to say I'm sorry? To repent and apologize and come home to be Little Miss Goody Two Shoes? Ain't gonna happen, princess. I'm just fine the way I am. Besides," her voice dropped a tiny bit, "the Mayor needs me."

"He needs you to kill people."

"So?"

"Faith, you're not a killer. You're a Slayer."

"What's the difference?" she demanded fiercely. "Just a bunch of words about what side you're on. My hands were covered in blood long before I ever came anywhere near the . . . the . . "

"His name was Allan Finch."

"It doesn't matter. I don't care." Faith jumped up off the couch and fled to the other side of the room.

Angel half-rose from his seat "Faith – "

"Didn't you hear me? I. Don't. Care."

"I do."

She stared at him, confused by his sudden change in tone and the strangely intense look in his eyes. Before she could say anything, however, someone rapped smartly on the locked door.

"Faith!" It was the Mayor. "I hear voices. I'm getting my key out."

White with panic, Faith barely managed to call back, "It's just the TV. I'll be there in a second! I just need to get dressed." She grabbed Angel's hand and dragged him into her bedroom, making sure to shut the door loudly.

"You have to go," she whispered, stealthily opening the window.

"Faith." The vampire looked down at her. Faith's whole body was tensed, as if awaiting some blow.

"Just go," she hissed and pushed him towards the window.

Angel took Faith's hand and squeezed it. "I'll come back," he promised quietly.

With a soft, hysterical laugh, Faith shook her head. "It's too late for that. Thanks for trying, though. I'll remember it. Now _go_!"

Admitting defeat, he stepped closer to the window. Suddenly Angel turned and planted a quick kiss on the girl's forehead. He climbed out the open window and vanished into the night.

Faith watched him go. It felt like part of her was disappearing with him. To steady her nerves, she pulled back her hair and took a deep breath. Then she went out to meet the Mayor, confident that neither he nor anyone else would learn of Angel's visit from her. After all, Faith Lehane was the world's second-best actor.

_Fin._

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_**A/N: Feedback in all forms is most greatly appreciated. **


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